Recently, I opened a Tumblr account (kenny-bloggins.tumblr.com if’n yownta follow me) to post photos, graphic design work, and various sharable media. Whilst dickin’ around late last night, I tried to find an old website of mine hosted on the now-outdated University of Kentucky student server, since it had a lot of rad photographs of mine to upload on my new Tumblr page. Said website also featured a lot of various writing I had done during my freshman year in college, including an analytical piece I wrote for one of my English classes. I decided to keyword this paper to try to locate the old website. To my astonishment, I found that a number of different people – on websites, in other college papers, and even on Wikipedia – had cited this piece I wrote back in 2003 called Brainwashing, Misanthropy, and Society: an Analysis of Boards of Canada’s Geogaddi.
I wanted to publish this piece on the blog to share with you all, as well as to give the piece a more official source. You see, concerning the latter point, the paper is attributed to my nickname when I was 18, the name that appears on the title of the website – Mikey P Diddy. Yeah, that’s rather embarrassing. And since I wrote it when I was 18, the writing is certainly a very different style than how I write now. Evidently, I was a rather pretentious tool at that age that was too good to use phrases such as, I dunno, “dickin’ around” (again, note that I was evidently a pretentious tool known to his bros as Mikey P Diddy… Christ, that’s downright horrible).
Unfortunately, I don’t have the works cited page available. Roughly half the observations were mine, and half were various interpretations found in discussions on the old boardsofcanada.com message board. Otherwise, the good ol’ Encyclopedia Britannica was utilized. Again, this is a college paper, so I don’t expect a lot of folks to be terribly intrigued. But if you are, the full text and relevant Boards of Canada MP3s (your reward for reading, I suppose) are here for your perusal after the jump.
The latest offering from Los Angeles based Nudge (not to be confused with The Nuge), As Good As Gone, is a slow-burning, beautiful record. As a quick introduction, Nudge is Paul Dickow of Strategy, Honey Owens, best known for her contributions to Jackie O Motherfucker (whom you know and love if you’re reading this blog), and Brian Foote, best known as the rad dude at Kranky who hooks me (and, consequently, you the reader) up with interviews and promo albums.
While the subterranean groove and minor key construction on As Good As Gone evoke a more haunting, nighttime-appropriate flavor, there’s also a visceral optimism that runs underneath the record’s seven songs like groundwater. Perhaps it’s the playfulness between genres and moods, or the freewheeling construction of the songs… or perhaps not all noise/post rock/freak psych kids like to make nihilistic records.
The opener “Harmo” makes a most unusual, extensive use of harmonica you’re likely to hear anytime soon, setting the stage for a delightfully disjointed psychedelic IDM canticle, ending in widely sweeping whispering vocals that blow through your headphones like sandstorms. “Two Hands” operates as sparse stoner rock – fluid, emphatic bass lines set the anchor for ride-heavy drumming, swirling wah guitar, and melodic, ominous vocals. “Burns Blue” cultivates the latter, spookier repertoire of Roky Erickson circa “May the Circle Remain Unbroken,” proving once again the importance of space in a song – sometimes it’s what you don’t play that cultivates the most expansive soundscape. Closer “Dawn Comes Light” is the type of gorgeous ethereal chant shanty in the vein of Jessica Bailiff, Charalambides, and Fontanelle that made Kranky famous.
Nudge’s As Good As Gone lies as a cross-section between ambient, electronic, psychedelic, and (loosely speaking) pop, and handles all approaches with panache. It’s good stuff. As Good As Gone drops on September 7 courtesy of Kranky. (Preorder)
For fans of: Cloudland Canyon, Flying Saucer Attack, Indian Jewelry
The NYT reported Friday that Sky Saxon (born Richard Elvern Marsh), lead singer and bassist for LA psychedelic band, The Seeds, had left this mortal coil. His death was apparently due to heart failure and was “thought to be 71.”
Anyone with a Nuggets compilation is likely to have heard “Pushin’ Too Hard” or “Can’t Seem to Make You Mine” with the latter ditty featuring Sky’s gruff warble and a trademark bent guitar lick.
Apparently the celebrity death rule of threes is in force with MJ, Farrah and Sky all passing during the week. If you’ve had enough “Thriller” for the time being… check out The Seeds on American Bandstand circa 1965:
I was too busy mourning Ed McMahon to realize that we recently lost king of pop bro Michael Jackson, or MJ, or Jacko. Dag, yo. I feel sad and moved by the passing of an icon I haven’t thought about in a long time. Though an autopsy report has yet to be filed, I think it’s safe to say that Jarvis Cocker is probably responsible:
Cocker invaded the stage at the 1996 BRIT Awards in a spur of the moment protest against Michael Jackson’s performance. Jackson performed surrounded by children and a rabbi, while making ‘Christ-like’ poses and performing his recent hit, “Earth Song“. Cocker and his friend Peter Mansell (a former Pulp member) performed an impromptu stage invasion in protest.
Jarvis going in for the stab @ Pitchfork Festival 2008:
Thanks for offing MJ, ass. Maybe you should look at the man in the mirror, ask him to change his ways. Maybe Deborah will take you back.
Be good to yourself… and each other,
Kenny Bloggins
Webmaster, Missing Jacko
Remember when you first heard Múm and there was that trial period where you knew the music was pretty interesting but you weren’t sure if you could deal with that creepy voice? Well, turns out that banshee was holding up her share of the framework, because two albums after the departure of Kria Brekkan and a few other early players, the group is only a toy-piano solo away from becoming a total caricature of themselves.
The up-coming fifth album Sing Along to Song You Don’t Know, is so saccharine that it makes me want to blow my brains out through my nose. Are Múm being held hostage by a bunch of teenage Brooklynites with Ritalin and glockenspiels? Without the contrast of spook and splendor found throughout the first three albums this Icelandic brand of pop sounds insincere and hastily arraigned. Occasionally, the rhythm section still churns out a compelling beat, like on the curiously danceable “The Smell of Today is Sweet Like Breastmilk in the Wind” (everyone’s favorite scented candle), but newly acquired fixation with the excessively-twee immediately muscles it’s way back into the driver’s seat with tracks like the opener “If I Were A Fish” (if i were a fish/and you were a seashell/ would you marry me anyways/would you have my babies?). It’s no fun to come down on Múm like this, and if they release an instrumental version of Sing Along, we might be able to recommend it, but unless that happens your time is in much better hands with their back catalog. Conversely, if you wish that Múm sounded way more like Architecture in Helsinki or Los Campesinos, you’re in luck.
Sing Along to Songs You Don’t Know comes out August 24th on Morr Music.
For fans of: Lali Puna, Magnetic Fields, Bjork, Fog
I’d like to be candid with you all before beginning this review of last night’s Sir Richard Bishop performance, saying that what I’m providing you right now is a piss poor concert review. It’s entirely possible that I might spend the majority of this review discussing how goddamn hot it was instead of the actual music that was performed. But that was the reality of the situation – it was practically impossible to bring you all any quality photos and videos since well over a hundred people were packed into the basement of the Swan Dive, there was no stage, and it was about 110 degrees Fahrenheit in the room. Trying to make it to the front was like standing in the entrance to the mouth of hell (and some Oaxacan songs could provide the soundtrack for that). I mean, I do… I like you guys. But I don’t volunerably-standing-in-the-burning-depths-of-a-boiler-room like you. No offense, dude.
At this point, it’s also worth mentioning that I have to plug The Kin Ship gallery. Based on the type of event they were promoting their current exhibit at and the design of the flier, I can assume this is a pretty cool art gallery. However, I’m mainly plugging them because they were a life saver last night. That flier became a makeshift fan that I’ve never been more thankful for having. Thank you, Kin Ship.
Now, on top of my inability to properly cover this show, I missed the legendary, reclusive local freak folk collective Sapat’s opening set. So I can’t even give you an account of how awesome that probably was. We did, however, make it in time for the beginning of Oaxacan’s set. And holy smokes.
It’s very clear why Richie B invited Oaxacan on his tour. Not only were they a perfect example of an incredibly talented, compositionally tight, blisteringly intense noise band (almost in the vein of Lightning Bolt), Oaxacan exhibited a very strong traditional Middle Eastern influence. While they carried the instruments of a rock band (drums, bass, guitar, samplers), Oaxacan sounded like a crazed, futuristic, Persian prog collective. Amy Friebertshauser used her voice, manipulated through samplers, to sound like a cross between incendiary lute riffs and deranged yodeling, cutting through the layered percussion and guitar textures like poisonous tentacles. The 45-minute opening set, with encore, provided a great sondtrack to a Mad Maxian desert documentary… or perhaps the current unrest in Tehran. I was delightfully shocked and emotionally spent after Oaxacan’s set. New fav band alert.
(Oaxacan on MySpazz)
Here are two samples of the exorcism that took place. The second video prominently features the dome of one Matt Minter (ex-Hair Police). We run a professional ship here at The Decibel Tolls, replete with videos of the backs of people’s heads.
Like clockwork, after Oaxacan fizzled out with a soft crash tap, crazy ol’ Richard strolled through and began to set up. Oaxacan did double duty as his backing band, and it was basically like seeing an entirely different band perform. I was impressed… again.
The knighted one ripped right into selections off of The Freak of Araby, using electric guitar as his new divining rod of choice. The former Sun City Girl again, as with his acoustic show I saw opening for Animal Collective, showcased an unreal musical prowess and exploration across vast lands of the Ottoman Empire. As mentioned, it was too hot to even attempt to see the Freak of Araby Ensemble, so this was my view for most of the show:
So Lana and I found the “awesome zone,” the area of the bar in line-of-sight of the basement’s sole AC unit. We camped out there, drank La Fin Du Mond, and enjoyed the acoustics of Bishop’s live renderings. We really had no intention of leaving this spot. Even if we did make it to the front, there isn’t much to see with Richard Bishop. Without visuals or the like, Bishop’s show consists of a longhair noodling on guitar, probably in a sitting position. This, of course, would be the perfect ambiance for a campfire or intimate outdoor performance, but due to the sweltering conditions inside, it was hard to keep attentive. The music was excellent, but the setting was wrong, I believe. Swan Dive is certainly an awesome locale, but it was a small, narrow space with no stage and a lot of people crammed in the front – all of which happened on an evening in the middle of a very nasty heat wave here in Louisville.
My final thoughts on the show, as if I didn’t already drive this point home – despite Bishop’s mastery of guitar technique and international fusion, Oaxacan kinda stole the night. They were simply amazing.
My buddy Lizzie over at Production Simple shot me over an email yesterday giving me (and all you all) an early warning on Dinosaur Jr. rolling through town this fall. I’ve seen the might J Mascis before. They are, indeed, as loud as you’ve heard. They’re not My Bloody Valentine loud, but they are Mogwai loud (maybe slightly more).
Dinosaur, Jr. with TBA
Friday, October 16
Doors at 7 p.m., Show at 8 p.m.
Headliners, Louisville (map that shizz)
Tickets on sale July 10th @ 10 a.m.
